


Hymm of the HorrorTerrors (Grimdark!Rose Lalonde x Gender Neutral!Reader)

by M15F17_H34R7



Series: Homestuck {Songfics} [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: But Not Queer, Gen, Grimdark, Not Good At Writing Gore, Or angst, Rose Lalonde - Freeform, but its here, reader - Freeform, this is messed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9419867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M15F17_H34R7/pseuds/M15F17_H34R7
Summary: She loves you just as much as she loves the terror in your eyes.





	

You can read their emotions like a book. Although the look of terror displayed blatantly on their face is a dead give away.

Heh, dead. 

They’re calling out to you, screaming your name over and over again.

“Rose?... Rose! Rose!? Rosie?!”

The sound of their fear mixed with the uselessness of their cries sends a shiver of delight down your spine. You’re going to do something the old Rose Lalonde would never dream of doing.

 

_Free me from the horror (futma tuj tugluthinkleht)_

 

“Rose! Don’t do this! You don’t have to do this!”

You hear their words, but they mean nothing to you; and yet they do. They ring in your ears over and over again, making you stop in your tracks. They take this as a sign that you’re actually listening to them. 

“Rose! We can help you! We found a healer! Come with me-”

You cut them off as you send one of your knitting needle wands flying towards them. It stabs the ground right next to their head with a loud _twang._ The fear returns to their eyes, and you smile. 

You begin telling them in the language of the horrorterrors what you’re planning to do to them. You know they can’t understand you, but the sickening grin on your face makes it pretty clear that they’re not making it out of here in one piece. 

As you stated before, you’re going to do something the old Rose Lalonde would never dream of doing. You’re going to sully her most prized treasure. You’re going to rip it open, break it apart, and learn how it ticks. You’re going to discover why your old self treasured this pathetic human above everything else.

 

_I feel powerless (shita fo gluthinjo)_

 

You menacingly stalk forwards, leering and grinning from ear to ear. You want to laugh at the sight of the terrified human trying to crawl away from you, but you’re grinning too much. Much to your amusement, they jolt in surprise when you summon your wand back to your hand. 

A curtain of long, thick black tendrils form a wall around you and the human, trapping the both of you in an inescapable dome of darkness. Only one of you is going to be able to see the sunlight again. 

They’ve run out of room, their back pressed tight against the wall of darkness as you lean in close. Your grin has since left you face, and your expression now mirrors one of stone. You examine them, your eyes flicking back and forth between their eyes, searching for that hint of emotion that you detect that is not terror nor fear.   

You return to your previous stand position, and you and the human just stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

You do.

Your tendrils of darkness wrap around their limbs as they scream for you to stop. Their cries are weak and so are they. The horrorterrors have doomed them from the start.

 

They’re yelling and begging and pleading for you to listen- saying that they can help you, that they can fix you. There’s nothing wrong with you, so why do you need fixing?

 

_Show me through the dark (mirmi etin tuklet)_

 

Your tendrils raise the human high into the air, and you slowly levitate up to meet them face to face.

“Rose, I know you’re in there! Please! Don’t do this!”

Even if you didn’t want to, there’s no going back. You’ve made up your mind, and the human will die. 

The human sends you one last pleading gaze before hanging their head in shame. Shame? That’s an interesting emotion to be feeling right before you’re about to die, but no matter. 

Your malicious smile returns to your face as you lift the human’s head to face you. To give them the proper sendoff you’ve deemed worthy because of your old self having just the slightest influence on you, you cradle their face in your hands, before leaning forward and pressing your lips to theirs. 

It is a chaste kiss, with no emotion behind it on your part, and it only lasts a few moments before you back a few feet away from the human, who has come to terms with their doom. You raise your wand, and aim it at their face, the tendrils becoming tighter around the human.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Rosie…” You hear them quietly murmur, but it has no effect on you.

 

_And soon may I be (ti nu, futma)_

 

With a downward flick of your wand and the wonderful sound of flesh tearing, the human is reduced to nothing but four quarters and a pile of innards.

Your dark wall of tendrils dissipates, and you stare at the remains of the human in almost what could be perceived as a loving manner.

 

_May I be set free soon (futma kul shemtor)_

 

Something runs down your face. You think it’s rain, but there’s not a single cloud in the sky.

Inside your mind, you are screaming.

**Author's Note:**

> Original work: http://m15f17-h34r7.deviantart.com/art/Hymm-of-the-Horrorterrors-Grimdark-Rose-x-Reader-629296749


End file.
